Drabble Collection
by Montley
Summary: 20. Hogwarts. It's where it all began isn't it?
1. Cairo

A/N: In this collection there will end up being twenty drabbles for the Globetrotter Competition on the HPFC forum by why the caged bird sings.

* * *

Cairo

By Montley

Lost, little darling?

Don't worry, simply open your eyes, it won't be much of a surprise.

There's something new all around you, and yet you still don't seem to fully understand.

All the books you've read don't account for what this new adventure will entail.

You've read about each house, certain that the Raven will claim you.

But when the hat is placed on your head, it only debates with itself.

Until it settles up the House of Lions.

Surely that can't be you?

Brave?

And Courageous?

You've never considered yourself that way; instead you've always been reading, reading about those who are brave, proud and true, those completely unlike you.

Don't worry, you won't be shy, what with your head firm on your shoulders, and your books by your side.

You won't be lost for long, my dear.

There was nothing to ever fear.

Little lioness proud and tall.

You shall be the bravest of them all.


	2. Berlin

Berlin

By Montley

He's on the ground; dead and destroyed. apparently finally defeated by the man who detested him the most, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Narcissa stares at the boy, seeing her only son, Draco, in his place, the great Harry Potter, murdered with one lowly spell.

Under He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's order she carefully walks toward the dead boy, her only thoughts circling around Draco, that he could possibly look like this in another part of Hogwarts, his wand broken next to him and dirt of the dead lingering upon his face.

She kneels next to Harry, her fingers stroking his face as she bends towards him, seeing platinum blond hair instead of the jet black. It is as though he's a dead child, but then she realizes that that is what he is, a young, orphan child, who never should have grown up so fast.

And she's tempted, tempted because of her only son, another boy who was forced to grow too quickly, forced to receive _his_ mark, forced his entire life. A tear runs down her cheek, landing on the dead boy's slump body. But her temptation is too great, and she whispers in the dead boy's ear who reminds her so much of her own son.

"_Yes,_" the boy says in a soft whisper, barely moving his chapped lips. Another tear graces her face when she shakily stands once more.

Turning towards He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named with what felt like Gryffindor bravery, she faces him, her stare cold, for she realized that that man is a monster who hides under children's beds.

"He is dead."

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A/N: This was also for the Snake and Ladder Challenge.


	3. Canberra

Canberra

By Montley

* * *

Ron examined the seating chart that Hermione laid out in front of him in order to get his final opinion. His eyes sifted through it, mostly pleased that there would not be many family conflicts. She had even forced him to get Bill's family to sit with Andromeda Black and Teddy, saying that she thought that Victoire and Teddy were adorable together, even though they were only eight and ten respectively.

"No, Aunt Muriel cannot be seated with George! He'll give her a heart attack by the end of the night," Ron complained, crossing Aunt Muriel off of the chart. Hermione groaned and tapped her pencil on the table.

"It's either next to George or next to the Lovegoods, and Muriel hates them," Hermione said, indicating the Lovegoods' table.

"Lovegoods it is then," Ron declared as he wrote Aunt Muriel's name adjacent to Luna's.

"That's fine if you want screaming, Ron," Hermione pointed out.

"I'd rather not have anyone die at my wedding, Hermione," Ron muttered dejectedly.

"Our wedding," Hermione drawled, jabbing the flushed man with her quill.

"Our wedding," Ron repeated with a smile.

"Right then," Hermione continued. "The seating chart is finished, now let's order the flowers and get this over with."

"Wait, Hermione," Ron said, grabbing her hands as she stood from the table to gather more forms.

"Yes, Ron." Hermione smiled and looked down at the man who was red and smiling.

"It's our wedding!" he exclaimed.

"Yes, Ron, that it is." Hermione laughed and let go of his hands, heading towards the kitchen counter. "Now I was thinking white roses, but I'm no expert in flowers-"

"Hermione," Ron beckoned, standing from the table and approaching her from behind. His hands traveled to her hips, and he dug his head in the crook of her neck. "It's our wedding."

Hermione giggled, and turned her head around to the side of Ron's head. "That it is."

"And you're going to be my wife," he continued, kissing her neck.

"I'd hope so," she joked, but leaned her head against his as she shuffled through the papers in front of her.

"And we're going to have little Hermiones running around with bushy hair," he mentioned, ruffling her own bushy, brown hair.

"Oi! Then we'd have little red-faced, nervous Rons running about," she retorted with another laugh.

"Oh, you wish," Ron said, turning Hermione around and holding her hands in his as papers went flying around them. He leaned down and softly brushed his lips against hers. "Now how about those flowers. My only preference is that I don't want any spiders appearing in them."

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A/N: Thanks for reading!


	4. Cannes

Cannes

By Montley

* * *

_Click._

_Snap._

Oh, how he loved the sharp sound.

He could listen to the repeating click all day.

To him, it was the sound of the birds twittering in the sky and the sound of a child's laugh.

It was his own type of magic.

Through it anything could be captured:

Happiness. Sadness. Tragedy. Confusion.

Love. Victory. Joy. And Beauty.

But the true beauty to him is the camera itself.

As it never ceases to capture pure feelings and pure magic through its lense.

Life and love immortalized in one image.

One moving image.

He brings life to the pictures.  
And they give life to him.

Even on the fateful day when Colin is gone.

And those around his body weep.

They'll remember the pictures he took.

His life. His laugh. His love.

_Click._

_Snap._

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A/N: Thank you for reading, and please review.

Also For (besides Globetrotter):

_Wand Wood Competition: Aspen_


	5. Istanbul

Istanbul

By Montley

The mirror stood in front of her, mocking her with her own reflection. Staring back at her was an empty ghost that desired to be quenched.

Padma brought the scissors near the top of her raven-colored hair, which was held into a long, sleek ponytail and cut it off in a fleeting moment.

One little change proved to be a difference, for the ghost dissipated slightly with her shorter hair. She reached her hands behind her, feeling the emptiness inside of her hands where her hair once was.

It was not enough

Why was her sister always there?

Always mocking.

Wasn't it already enough that Padma was alive and Parvati was dead?  
Dead because of the war.

The war which should have never even occured, at a school of all places.

It hadn't even been that long and Padma was tired.

Tired of seeing her dead twin sister everyday within her.

The mirror laughed at her, and Padma drew her arm back and threw her fist against the mirror, breaking it into shards which fell onto the wooden floor. Glass from the mirror grazed her knuckles and the blood dripped out below her.

She crumpled into a heap on the ground along with the glass and cried, her reflection surrounding her, and her hair under the shards.


	6. Hong Kong

Hong Kong

By Montley

"Reveal it to me now, Wormtail, I'm not a patient man," his master snapped, his long fingers, open and awaiting.

"Y-yes, M-master," Peter stammered as he bowed to his master.

He approached the man, or what was left of the man he had once been and handed him the paper which revealed everything. His master smirked, his long thin lips spreading wickedly across his face. He stood from where he was seated, pushing Wormtail aside before he apparated into thin air.

Peter gazed at the spot his master had just stood in, allowing a lone tear to cascade down his chubby cheek in woe for James, for Lily, and for their son, yet in Peter's mind, he believed that he had had no other choice but to join his master.

He no longer recognized himself as a man, instead thinking of himself as a puppy, always following his master's mandates; ones that cause misery, death and destruction. Except he knew that he was also doomed to be a rat; his master's pet and spy, a sneaky, quiet, unsuspecting rat.

It had begun as a fight for his life. No one would think that the shy, mousy Gryffindor would turn into You-Know-Who's rat. Not Remus, not Sirius and certainly not James.

Once he had become Secret Keeper for the Potters, he knew that he was finally able to please his master, to make his master even appreciate him.

Now here he was, waiting for his master to return to give him his next orders, even though his master no doubt just murdered a husband, a wife and a young son, a man who had been his best friend.

And Peter, no, Wormtail, knows that he can never say no to his master.


	7. Jerusalem

Jerusalem

By Montley

The laughter of her grandchildren is what gives her purpose nowadays. The Burrow is empty as all of her chicks have flown out of the nest long ago, and Papa Bird recently gave his last chirp.  
Now her grandchildren cannot laugh, and nor can she as her love is gone, floating away into the wind and heading towards the stars to join the rest who have fallen. She knows that it was his time, just as her time is slowly approaching. And she cannot wait for it to come.  
Molly never knew how much she had needed him to make her happy until he was lying on his death bed, slowly succumbing to his deadly, unprecedented disease.  
Now his body is finally being lowered into the ground, six feet below, in front of her, in a muggle cemetery, just as he had always wanted.  
But all she wants is him.


	8. Kuala Lampur

Kuala Lampur

By Montley

You remember the day it happened so clearly because it replays in your mind every, single day. Every single damn day. The main thought that returns to your head is why weren't you there? Why couldn't he, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, kill you, instead of them? Instead of James and Lily. The only thing that you are thankful for is that your godson survived, but James and Lily could have survived too if you had not been so foolish in trusting a rat.

You never thought once that they would be betrayed, rather you believed that the Death Eaters would come after you immediately, so you stupidly thought that the rat could be trusted. Of course you did, you trusted him throughout your school years.

You want to believe that it was the rat who ultimately caused their deaths, but you know it was you. James wanted you as Secret Keeper but it was you who passed it to the rat, not the rat himself, not You-Know-Who, you! You! You! You! All thanks to you!

It's all your fault, and you know it.

And you deserve to rot in your cell for the crimes that the rat committed, because, in a way...

You killed James and Lily.

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_A/N: This one's challenge was where I had to use two or more genres and they were Angst and Crime. _


	9. London

London

By Montley

Merope gazed out the window of her small shack as Tom Riddle passed by on his elegant horse. She sighed in contentment; he was alone, without that terrible girl who had stolen his heart instead of her.

Merope wished that she could leave the shack and walk up to him, start a normal conversation, but even if he could see past her looks, her father or brother would curse him for simply being a muggle, a belief that Merope detested. She would never want any damage to come to him, for she loved him more than she could possibly bear.

Even if the handsome boy could come to love her, there would never be any hope with her family. It hurt to see him, knowing that he was betrothed to that girl, but she loved seeing him and his smiling face with his horse, which she had frequently imagined would carry them away to happiness and a new life.

"MEROPE!" her father yelled. She immediately jumped from her position by the window and with one last look at her love scurried away to tend to her father's whim.

'_Soon, my dear,' _she thought._ "Soon."_


	10. Manila

Manila

By Montley

Regulus stood in front of Barty, his cool, close breath touching the back of his neck as their Lord spoke. Regulus drifted back and forth from space, drifting towards Barty, wanting, no, _needing_ to get closer to him, even if for the last time.

His arm swung slowly at his side, hoping that Barty would get the message. And he did as he carefully gripped Regulus' hand with a reassuring squeeze and a smirk, hoping that no one around would notice that Regulus was _his _and _his_ only.

Barty drowned in the memories of Regulus' close, intoxicating kisses, the ones that traveled up his neck, leaving marks of his undiluted, burning love. Barty had never known what it was like to be close to another human before Regulus, who had filled the blackness in his heart.

Their Lord ended the meeting, and Regulus' relinquished Barty's hand, making him feel cold once more as they parted their ways.

Barty returned home, content and filled, while Regulus returned home, uneasy and unfulfilled as he wrote his last letter to his love before leaving to try to do the right thing, the thing that Barty would never understand. For even if he was the one that Barty loved most, he would always love his Lord as well.

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_A/N: I became really sad that I had to leave this as a drabble, sigh. I'm definitely going to be writing more with this pairing!_


	11. Edinburgh

Edinburgh

By Montley

The first time he flew, he was on one of those little toy brooms he had received for one of his birthdays. His mother had eagerly placed him on the broom and he went zooming away, ultimately crashing into their cat, which snarled at him. His mother ran to him and picked him up while his father had chuckled.

Now here he was, the first game of his career on Puddlemere United; strong, proud and brave as Keeper, the position he had always dreamed of. It hadn't felt _so _real until he was in Puddlemere's pitch in the sky, fans cheering in the stands. In his new navy and gold uniform, he felt alive and accomplished, and when he was in his red and gold uniform back in school, his dream was still just that, a dream.

And because of it, he almost started to cry in pure bliss.

He made it.


	12. Los Angeles

Los Angeles

By Montley

It was too much, all too much and there was no simple escape that wouldn't end in fatality. Mary was drifting on the edge, needing to leave. She felt tainted and used, the pain of it all haunting her, assaulting her mind with constant images, and that smirk that would never leave her head.

What she planned, what she desired above all, some may call a sin. Others would refer to it as giving up or the easy way out. But she felt that she had no other choice. Her life was a hell hole and that was it.

Even if _he_ hadn't done anything to her and to her body during her school years, she knows that she would have chosen this as well. Those images simply made it worse to bear with life. Clearly, she can remember Mulciber's wicked sneer and cackle as her tortured her and mutilated her body, taking away one thing she held dear, a thing to save for the one she truly loved. Her virginity.

That would never happen as since then, she wouldn't let anyone touch her. And why should they?

The war was brewing, and she knew that James and Lily were in hiding with their baby boy and that Marlene McKinnon and her family were slaughtered. So, she figured that she would die anyway

For isn't it better to die at one's own hand than someone else's?

Everyone's meant to die in the end.

And this is her time.


	13. Luxembourg

Luxembourg

By Montley

She was radiant, like the sun in a million smiles. The instant his eyes locked onto her bright, blue ones, Bill fell in love. It was surreal, accepting her as his, but the moment he held her, touched her chubby arms, she was his forever.

A tuft of blonde hair lay atop her head, and he knew that she would be a miniature Fleur with the Weasley freckles along the bridge of her nose. Her fingers were tiny, about the size of his own fingernail, only able to grip onto one of his fingers. He never wanted her to let her go, rather he wished to revel inside the moment, and as she would unfortunately grow older, that bubble of the memory would remain with him evermore.

His child was the perfect, tiny, little miracle, a light after the darkness which had haunted the world for so long. Inside her, she encompassed hope, and it was simply fate that she was born a exactly year after the war ended; Fleur even went into labor during the ceremony for the anniversary of the war.

She was beautiful, and she was his. And he would never let her go for the world.

For she was his little Victory.


	14. Montreal

Montreal

By Montley

It was never fair. All of it!

He would always be _better, _be supreme, and be more loved.

Practically Perfect Potter!

His mere presence was insulting, and it was as though he could never do wrong.

Draco had enough. He was tired of simply trying, trying again and again to prove himself worthy, ever since first year, even after he offered "Practically Perfect Potter" a hand in friendship.

And he would.

No matter how long it took, and no matter what means.

He would be worthy, he would no longer be second best. He would be "Practically Perfect" in whatever means it took him to get there.

Even to get that burning symbol etched along his skin.

His father would finally be proud.


	15. Dubai

Dubai

By Montley

Had his existence really come down to just this?

Loneliness?

Tiredness?

Weariness?

And Sickness?

Perhaps, he deserved it. All of the riches in the world couldn't redeem himself this time. Narcissa and Draco were now alone, once again, and it was all his fault. Or rather, his father's. For he was the one who sealed his family's death unto the name of their Lord, a Lord he was forced and told to serve since his birth.

He was raised to be spoiled, rotten and self-righteous, never seeing the other side of situations, his hair as long as his wealth. He wished to pretend that he was home, a house-elf serving him his meal, Narcissa across from him at the dining table, but the Dementor's steal away that thought as soon as it enters his puny brain that was never trained to think for itself.

So, now he knows he's meant to be alone for the rest of his days.

He deserves it.

For there's no heaven for him in the end.

**A/N: This is the only one of the drabbles in here that isn't for Globetrotter! I just wrote two options and the real one is posted on its own and is called The Tale of Seven. **


	16. New York

New York

By Montley

She's peaceful as she sweeps across the endless meadow behind the Burrow, her arms in the air, and her flaming, red hair flowing in the wind, embracing her freedom and the love that encapsulates her as he chases her. It's almost like a scene from one of those cliche Muggle books and movies her mother had read and shown her as she grew up, though she never believed it would happen to her. That she would find someone that was simply perfect, someone who loved her just the way she is, frizzy hair and all.

He gently tackles her to the ground, flipping her over and smirking, that smirk that she just adores, and she can't help but smile.

"Got you, Rosie," he said with a wink of his grey eyes.

"Not for long, Scorp," she teased, and kneed his stomach, pushing him off of her as she rolled away and stood.

"Oit!" he yelled, quickly standing right before Rose knocked him over roughly towards the ground. She laughed and leaned her head against his chest as he chuckled. She rolled off of him, but he held her in his arms, her head on his shoulder. He leaned towards her and kissed her forehead as they stared at the velvet sun.

"At least my grandparents are fine with us," Rose commented, closing her eyes as she listened to Scorpius' breathing.

"They're...well...kinder," Scorpius muttered. "And then there's your dad."

"Oh, he's not _that _bad," Rose commented.

"But he'll freak," Scorpius continued.

"I don't care," she said. "I bloody well don't care. He can stick a pole up my arse, and I won't give a damn. You're who I care about, and they can't control my love."

"Better words than I can say, as always, Rose," Scorpius complimented, pressing his lips against the top of her ear.

"Let's just stay here forever," Rose suggested. "This way, we can be together, and we won't have to fear."

"I like that," Scorpius said. "Forever, and the two of us."

They remained silence, reveling in the comfort of each other's breaths as the sun set across the sky, but they didn't move, seeking comfort in the perfect moment that would be their eternity.


	17. Oslo

Oslo

By Montley

Luna understood everything that occurred around her, so she understood the bullies, why they would tease her, whether it be the extraneous accessories she wore, or the fact that she read her father's magazine, the Quibbler, it was because they weren't secure with themselves. But she was.

It didn't matter that they stole her belongings, they were just sad and she was happy. She was just happy to learn magic, like her parents had before her. It was the trace that her mother left behind, and that was why she was at Hogwarts, to learn, to live and to breathe magic within her veins and her soul.

Though, when fourth year rolled around, and she met _them, _the tears threatened to spill. For she realized, she hadn't been secure, she hadn't been as happy as she thought. For she, unlike the rest of the students, had no friends, until Ginny, Neville, Harry, Hermione and Ron. And they were perfect, and she loved them more than she can ever say.

They completed her and her simple, little, existence among the Nargles and the Plimplies.


	18. Paris

Paris

By Montley

The first time you saw her doesn't compare to this.

The first time, she was only a baby, small and tiny, and you were a toddler, strutting about like you owned the world, paying no attention or care to the smaller child with no idea of who you two would grow up to be.

Now she's yours; radiant like the sun. And you want to cry as you notice her hair is a bright teal, just the way that you tend to keep yours, such a difference from the long, blonde hair that swayed around her waist. She's smiling, and she's perfect, and the corners of your mouth form a grin so wide it touches the sky.

Her cheeks blush, in the way that makes you nervous and filled with butterflies. You feel a pat on your back, you turn and it's James, winking at you in support. You chuckle, and then she's across from you, and your heart is pounding a million times a minute. It's racing and racing. You want it done already. You want her to be yours, just as you want to be hers, forever in an everlasting eternity.

And, she seals your love with two simple words.

"I do."

And the kiss you share feels like the first one, as each kiss with her always does. Her smile is pressed against your lips as everyone cheers, and you hear your grandmother crying.

You never want to let her go, and you wish that this perfect moment could last forever.

For she's beautiful, and you don't know what you did to ever make Victoire love you.


	19. New Delhi

New Delhi

By Montley

Rowena Ravenclaw, a woman of intelligence and pure wisdom swimming inside her vast mind, one that is always eager to be expanded upon. Her demeanor was cold, like her diadem that was always perched upon her head. She was the frost that everyone had avoided.

She was made of ice, and it burned her heart. She was tortured by her reputation, as everyone had believed that her intelligence far surpasses anyone else's. In simple terms, it's excellent, but if one would dig deeper, they would find a little voice calling out to be freed from the boulders, hindering her feelings. But no one could break through, until _them_.

She met Helga first, a woman who warmed her insides, breaking through and lighting her smile once again. Then there came Godric, a cheery, bright man, unafraid to come near Rowena and begin a conversation, breaking down the walls she had built up long ago. And finally, there was Salazar, the way he was before his own mind was tainted, breaking down the ice in front of Rowena's heart.

And she could love. And she could build. And she could fight. And she could live once again.


	20. Prague

Prague

By Montley

Hogwarts.

It's where it all began isn't it?

It's so much more than a building, or even a simple establishment.

Each tile, every stone and every stair is full of history, beginning from the first feet which marched upon it, their greatness inspiring the magic of the rest of the halls.

Everyone knows the story of the Great Four: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin, whose houses were named after them, yearning for eager young blood, and it came, but just as quickly Slytherin left, leaving behind his great, vast, empty chamber.

The years moved on, students came in and out, exploring the secrets of the remarkable place that far upheld the strength of one's own imagination.

Simply put, it is home, and it is where anyone can belong, no matter one's background or their history, even the loneliest, the nastiest, or the one who has suffered the most can dwell there and live among the beauty of the world, thanks to those days long ago in the past.

It is the foundation of one's life and their story, that will continue through the centuries thanks to a fine school that will always be there for those who call upon it.

**A/N: Woohoo! I finished! Yay!**


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